


pincushions, apparently

by kinnoth



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, M/M/M/M/M, Porn, Possible mindfuckery, dubious consent?????????, it's not actually clear how many M's are involved at any one time, joseph is a massive slut apparently, just massive amounts of porn, not entirely positive what's going on? neither am i!, weird psycho ranting, with more porn on top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:16:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinnoth/pseuds/kinnoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joseph bends because he's bid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pincushions, apparently

**Author's Note:**

> "I know what you crave, what you fear…Will you be able to live with yourself knowing what I’m gonna make you do? Poor little Joseph couldn’t… you’re mine to do with as I please.”
> 
> what did you make joseph do, ruvik? was it nasty? was it diiiirtyyyyy?
> 
>  
> 
> ............................sorry about this.

Joseph bends because he's bid: there are hands in his hair, hands beneath his shirt, fingers binding his wrists, lashing him to the table. They pull him taut. Blunt fingernails drag lines down his legs, up across his back. He lets them. He doesn't protest. It occurs to him he should be troubled by how he doesn't want to. A touch to the inside of his thigh and he spreads his feet, makes himself open, pushes back like an invitation. There's a hum of approval in his ear, the smell of fire, and something not unlike a tongue dragging over his face. Hot weight on his mouth, pressing in. Joseph shudders. He parts his lips, rounds his teeth, and suckles pleasurably. 

His eyes open as he takes in the sight: whole rows of men, faceless and featureless but for their hands and bodies and erect cocks. His mouth waters. The fear's gone out of him, the revulsion and need to keep himself from going hollow. He doesn't care anymore. He doesn't care about anything. It's like someone's gone into his brain and flipped a switch, and now, there's nothing left but the unending present. There's nothing to be afraid of. 

"You're a good boy, aren't you?" someone asks, and Joseph regains himself for long enough to lift his head, find his voice.

Ruvik stands over him with his filthy robe and hooded eyes, his face screwed in what, by Joseph's estimation, seems to be amusement. 

Joseph twists to look at him. "What did you do to me?" he rasps, and he doesn't recognise the moan of his voice as someone pushes a finger into his hole and tugs. He doesn't sound like that. He's never sounded like that before.

Hands with rough fingers prying into him, spreading his legs til they ache with strain, him pushing back, distractedly searching. Ruvik pets a blistered hand through Joseph's hair almost fondly before pushing his head back down onto the cock. 

"What I did to you?" he asks and laughs darkly as Joseph begins to bob. "I've done nothing." It doesn't feel like an intrusion when someone starts pushing in behind him. It feels like a hunger being satiated, like he's a broken thing being pieced back together. Joseph lifts his hips as the man begins to thrust. He's been aching for this. He's been waiting for this. The man in his mouth presses heavily the back of his neck til Joseph opens his throat for him. He sucks and licks while his asshole clings luxuriantly to the cock feeding in and out of it. Thick fingertips hook into the crevices of his hips and tighten, til he's being pounded into the table, til his feet lose their purchase and go skidding over the tiles.

Joseph takes it. 

"Whose mind do you think we're in right now, Joseph?" Ruvik asks. There's a laugh in his voice. It grates over Joseph's nerves like raw wool.

He releases the cock from his mouth when it comes over his tongue. Joseph swallows thickly and demands with a sullen tone, "Then why are you here?" before another man presents himself, palm wrapped round his dick like an offering. Joseph accepts. 

"Hm?" Ruvik circles around, touching the backs of hunched shoulders, testing the lashes at Joseph's wrists as if they were an abstraction. "I'm here to watch." Joseph barely notices when the man behind him finishes, realises only after when a cool trail of semen begins to run down his leg, because there's another man there, taking the same position, fingers kneading into the soft flesh of Joseph's ass like he's trying to squeeze it into shape. Joseph pushes back against him when he starts to rock. He's just as merciless as the first one, just as unforgiving.

Ruvik's fingertips brush over his lower back, delicate in a spidery way. Joseph recognises his touch by its coolness, welcome against his heated skin. He groans. Ruvik tsks and the touch turns into a drag, til he's put his palm flat against Josephs' tailbone, his fingers spread against either side of Joseph's swollen hole, bracketing the penis that shoves in and out of him like a piston.

"You people," Ruvik breathes, and Joseph opens his eyes to see himself being watched, distantly, like he's some specimen under a microscope. Ruvik removes his hand and brings it towards Joseph's face. He spreads the sticky wetness of the lube he's picked up on Joseph's cheek, slips his fingers into Joseph's mouth alongside the cock so Joseph can get a taste of himself. Joseph moans, licking the backs of his knuckles. Ruvik pulls his hand away slowly. He wipes it against his coat. 

"You think you're so civilised, don't you?" Ruvik says. "You think a suit and some shoes and a bit of polish takes you away from the animals. The monsters. So you put up your noses and pick up your skirts and make all sorts of exclamations in horror when the ones like me come around." The room is emptying; every man that has his turn with Joseph vanishes after he's done. But a flicker in reality and they're back, crowded around again, hands stroking and petting over his body. Joseph straightens his neck and opens his mouth as wide as it will go. Two men push in and Joseph gags on them joyfully. He works his tongue into the gap between the shafts as they jockey for position, round, smooth heads bumping at the back of his throat.

Ruvik paces around him once more, his fingers landing wheresoever he prefers like little cold brands, marking him. "You call us sick," he says. Someone comes on Joseph's face and he reaches out his tongue to catch it. "You lock us away." Hands reach underneath him and fondle his balls. Fingers loop a loose circle around his dick to give him something to thrust into. Then they hoist up his knees. "But how's this for sick, hm?" His ass in the air now, presenting, like he's a bitch in heat. The ties around his wrists strain to accommodate his new position. He thinks he knows what's coming. It makes him ache to think about it.

"How's this for lifting up your skirts?"

The man pushes back into him, but he's not alone. Those are fingers pressing in alongside his cock, two of them, then three. He opens.

"Please," he says, and it's begging. The cock is gone now but the fingers remain, swallowed up to the palm. A hard thumb makes insistent half circles around his rim. Joseph whines, arches his back. The thumb worms its way inside.

He's so full. Oh god, he's so full, but he knows how to be fuller. He isn't thinking of anything else when his lips search out another dick. He imagines what he must look like: wrapped around someone's wrist like a bracelet. It's perfect.

Ruvik laughs. Joseph sucks his cheeks in hollow until the man releases his load over his stained and parted lips. The fist in his hole plunges in then out. His vision goes black. Joseph gasps, "Why are you doing this?" His voice shakes.

Ruvik puts his hand on the small of his back again, fingers feather-light. He touches the wrist and it withdraws; the noise it makes as Joseph's hole lets it go is an obscenity in itself. Joseph's shoulders collapse. He breathes in wet gulps of air, his forehead pressed against the table. Without a pause, hot palms wrap around his thighs and move his shaking legs back onto the floor. There's a cock filling his ass before he even has a chance to collect himself. 

"I already told you," Ruvik hums. The edge of his robe brushes against Joseph's arm as he bends down to smear the mixture of spit and cum from Joseph's chin. "I'm just an observer." The man behind him spreads himself over Joseph's back, his body hard and hot and heavy, his tongue coiling along the ridges of Joseph's ear. Joseph writhes and tries to twist himself around enough to catch his mouth. Suddenly, the bindings around his wrists are gone. Joseph turns, sitting up and crossing his ankles around the man's hips as he tucks himself back in. He opens his mouth and the man licks into it, wrapping arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush. The man thrusts. Joseph moans around his tongue.

"You're in control here, Joseph," Ruvik tells him. 

The man comes onto his thigh and releases him. Joseph reaches, blindly, and another faceless figure breaks from the crowd, taking his predecessor's place exactly. He twines his limbs around the body and lets himself be lifted into a lap. His hole is loose and wet and it's nothing at all to seat himself astride a cock and ride it to completion. He turns around for the next one, riding face to face, moving his lips over symmetric musculature and the dark button of a nipple. 

"You're the one calling them in." 

Someone else climbs onto the table, a hand wrapping around Joseph's throat and pulling him back against a rounded shoulder. He grinds his penis into the cleft of Joseph's ass, and it's little matter to bend a little more, to shift his angle to accommodate him too. They piston in and out of him in turns, fucking him open, slipping against one another. The pressure builds in his groin. Joseph tries to touch his own dick but finds that his hands are tied again, lifted over his head, the ropes secured to a hook from the ceiling. When did that happen? Why didn't he notice? One of the men presses three fingers in past Joseph's slack mouth, massaging at his tongue. He sucks them down greedily. They taste like nothing, not even salt. 

Joseph strains, tries fruitlessly to find friction for his dick, pushing into air. Ruvik makes a soft, mocking noise and reaches over with a nearly academic interest. His hand is cool, but slick. He squeezes once, and yes, that's good, but then the men come in Joseph's ass and leave him bereft. He feels his hole opening and closing like a gasping mouth. He whimpers. 

Ruvik clicks his tongue. "How many is that now? Seventeen? Twenty?" The next man climbs onto the table and teases Joseph with his cock, slapping it against his chin and cheek and rubbing the tip of it against his lips while Joseph chases it with his mouth. The relief he feels when it's finally fed to him unfurls through his body in shivers. Joseph's eyes roll back, whites showing, before he closes them again. Ruvik touches the wet boundary between Joseph's lips and the cock between them. He asks, "How much more will you have until you're satisfied?"

Joseph makes a muffled noise of pleasure as the man pulls away from his mouth, slapping it against his chin again. Joseph nuzzles into it, rubbing his face against the man's groin, lipping at the thin skin at the base of his cock and pulling his balls into his mouth to roll against his tongue. It smells of nothing. Merely dreamstuff. The man comes in Joseph's hair. "More," he says as the next one takes his place.

He sees Ruvik smiling out of the corner of one eye. There are hands on his backside again, slapping and kneading, the sound of mouths spitting on his hole as if it needed any more slick. When the fingers push in, it's almost not enough anymore, not after what he's had, though it's better than nothing. A tongue twines into him, lapping as the fingers find his prostate and begin to milk it. Ruvik says to him, "You like this, don't you?" as he lets go of Joseph's cock so that the man behind can pull it between his legs to suck on. "It's what you've always wanted."

Joseph moans. It's agreement. Ruvik hushes him, fingers in his sticky hair. "I know, Joseph," he says with a mockery of tenderness. "I'm a doctor, you know. I designed this machine. That's why we're here," he presses his nose into the side of Joseph's face and breathes in once before licking a long stripe to his hairline, "in your head," he says, "searching through all your little perversions til we find the ones that really suit you." Joseph turns his head but Ruvik's mouth is gone; he's pacing the floor again, his eyes glittering under his hood.

"Have you ever heard of Freud's structural model, Joseph?" he asks. "Id, ego, superego." He pauses as if he expects an answer, but then continues without waiting for one. "No? Well, I can show you." 

Ruvik strides back over to the table, shoves the man away from Joseph's face; he falls without hitting the floor. Ruvik's hands fist into the tatters of Joseph's shirt. 

"This," he says, tearing til the cloth gives beneath his fingers, "is your superego: suit, tie, two hundred dollar shirt." He rips until it's gone, til Joseph's naked but for the lashes tying his hands and a fine film of bodily fluids over his skin. Ruvik dangles the rags in front of him like a prize. He explains, "It's what other people want you to be; it's what mommy and daddy would've wanted from their little boy." 

He circles around again while Joseph watches him. "This is your ego." He yanks aside the other man who, too, disappears into smoke. The loss emerges from Joseph's throat like a physical force, a whine so guttural and needful it's like a blow. 

Ruvik smiles: "Saying no when you want to say yes," he says. He drags a red line with a jagged nail down Joseph's shuddering sternum. "Keeping quiet when all you want to do is scream," he says. He leans up against the table and puts his mouth into Joseph's ear. His breath is wet and hot as he murmurs privately, "Letting your partner drown himself in a bottle because you don't want to face the idea he wouldn't need you half as much, sober."

Joseph chokes and feels himself wilt, but then the hands are back again, the mouths and the hard, eager cocks. He takes one into his body and he feels better; two and he can almost forget. He grinds down on the dick humping his ass, using the bindings to pull himself up when his legs shake too much and give. This is right. Just this. Being empty inside but for the things other people put in him. Burning with nothing but his own desire to have. 

Ruvik presses his lips to his temple. It's nearly loving. "But this," he tells him. "You, bouncing on a cock, moaning like a whore: this is your id." He pulls Joseph away from the cock in his mouth and kisses him, a real kiss, with teeth and tongue and a palm curved alongside the back of his skull. He tells him, "This is who you really are," and Joseph's hands are loose again, pulling at Ruvik's shoulders, pushing underneath his robe looking for more of that cool skin. Ruvik pushes his hands away, pushes him down til he's on his back and presses them down over his head. Joseph keeps them there because that's where they were put. Ruvik pulls himself onto the table, spreading out alongside him. He touches Joseph's face, the side of his neck, runs fingertips along the ridges of his ribcage and back up onto his throat. He squeezes. 

"Do you like it?" he asks. "Do you like yourself when you can just have what you want?

Joseph moans, "Yes." His skin feels too hot, like he's running fever, and he wants, he wants so badly it makes him writhe just to feel the scratch of the table against his back, the brushes of cloth where Ruvik's sleeve rests against his clavicle.

Ruvik nods approvingly, and Joseph wants him to approve, he wants to please him in any way he can, in every way. He strokes Joseph's face again, even lets Joseph turn so he can lip at his finger. "That's all I wanted to do, Joseph," he says. "That's all I ever wanted was to give people what they want." Joseph catches the joint of Ruvik's thumb and Ruvik lets him pull it into his mouth. "Make them happy." Ruvik watches thoughtfully as Joseph licks and sucks. "I make you happy, right, Joseph?" he asks. "I give you what you want?"

Joseph whimpers as Ruvik bears down gradually on his throat. Stars spark behind his eyes. "Yes."

Ruvik releases him and pulls away. Joseph startles, sitting up, his hands reaching, but Ruvik only draws up a chair from the space where there previously was none, and sits down on it, his knees spread. He begins unbuckling his trousers. Joseph scrambles from the table. His bare feet leave marks on the tiles. 

He takes a step, but Ruvik raises a finger. "On your knees," he says patiently, and Joseph sinks down onto the floor. "Good," says Ruvik, and his fly comes undone, and there's his cock, uncut and red-veined. He squeezes it in a gesture that Joseph recognises. "Now crawl," he says, and Joseph gets onto all fours. 

The linoleum is cold and dusty beneath his palms. Detritus sticks to his skin. Ruvik watches him with hooded eyes. "Good boy, Joseph," he tells him as Joseph finally comes to a kneel in front of him. Ruvik strokes a hand into his hair and pushes his cock past the barrier of Joseph's lips. He tastes like fire and salt and skin. It's delicious. It's what he wants. Joseph swallows, but his spit runs down the shaft anyway. He bends down further to catch it before it drips from Ruvik's testes, licks at them, cleans up, puts the tip of his tongue up against the slit of the head before sliding back down. Ruvik pets his hair in steady strokes. "Such a good boy."

Joseph wraps a hand around himself and squeezes. He tries to remember the exact turn of wrist and pressure that Ruvik had applied, but it eludes him. His free hand he tucks between his thighs; he probes and tugs at the turgid ring of his ass but the angle is awkward and undesirable.

Ruvik sees him and lifts him by the chin. The tip of his penis hangs from Joseph's mouth. "Is this enough for you?" he asks. "Do you want more?"

Joseph nods and groans once before swallowing back down. Ruvik lets him go a little while longer before he taps him on the shoulder. "Look," he says.

Joseph tucks Ruvik's cock into his cheek so he can turn his head without taking it from his mouth. There's a door in the wall where there had been just a wall, and then the door is opening, kicked down from its hinges. A man rushes in, rifle braced against his shoulder. Sebastian.

"Ruvik--" he demands, seeing first only Ruvik waiting for him, sprawled on a chair like it's more of a throne. But then his eyes journey downwards and he sees everything: the spread knees, the dark head, the long arch of his back as Joseph wraps himself around Ruvik's cock. The gun falters. "Joseph-- no."

Ruvik purrs, "You're just in time, detective." He keeps one hand on Joseph's neck as he gestures with the other. Suddenly the room is filled with bodies -- mannequins, dolls, laying in heaps like broken toys. They're all hung like mules. Joseph keeps going. He could stop, but he'd rather not. He doesn't want to go without, never again if he can help it. Ruvik continues as Sebastian steps closer, stops, steps forward again, "He finished all the others, so there was just me left." He pets Joseph's hair again, proprietorially. "And he insisted," he says, "didn't you, Joseph? He just simply needed more."

Sebastian's footsteps are heavy on the floorboards. "Ruvik, you bastard, get your--"

"He has a sweet mouth," Ruvik interrupts him. He pauses and makes a motion to where Joseph's hands are still working, tucked between his legs. "And, I haven't tried it, but I'm sure his ass is just as sweet." Ruvik stands suddenly, but Joseph feels him move and goes with him. It's a better view now, with his knees apart and his hands in clear sight. Sebastian can see exactly what is going on. "Might have to ask him to tighten up on you though," Ruvik suggests perfunctorily. "He's had more than a cock or two in there by now, isn't that right?"

Joseph moans, but then Ruvik's rhythm changes. Both hands on his head now, holding it in place as his hips snap viciously forward. Joseph tries to keep pace, but finds it's best to just let go, let Ruvik drive his groin into his face, balls slapping against his chin. His hands forget their task. He's lost all control, put it all in another man's hands. The most he can do is hold on.

Ruvik makes a clicking swallow in the back of his throat and all at once, pulls out. He comes over Joseph's face. It's hot and thick and it tastes bitter where it gets into Joseph's mouth. Ruvik pushes himself away, and Joseph collapses like a puppet with cut strings.

Through the haze of his lust, he can see Sebastian's contorted face. It's an expression he doesn't recognise, some mixture of panic and disgust. Joseph can't stand it. "Seb," he says. He reaches a hand. "Seb, please."

Ruvik steps around him, rounds to where Sebastian stands, frozen. He glances over. "I think he wants you, detective," he says. "I hope you're not going to make him wait." He goes to the door, it's broken hinges suddenly fixed. He opens it. It's black as the void, beyond. He steps through. "You can finish him off, if you want," he tells Sebastian over his shoulder. "If not, well, he knows how to call for reinforcements."


End file.
